Young and Beautiful
by american-in-london
Summary: Cobert Winter Wonderland Smut Exchange (2013): A confession during a late night walk alters everything for Robert and Cora.
1. Part I

_Early January 1890_

Robert stared at his wife as she stood by the window gazing out into the darkness. A tender smile pulled at the edges of her crimson lips, her countenance full of mirth. The sight caused a flood of warmth to surge through his chest, and he exhaled audibly. Despite what some might think – she, in particular – her happiness was of utmost importance to him. The day he proposed to her, he promised to make her happy. It was a silent promise he made to her and to himself. He knew then how she felt about him, how much she was giving up. Cora may have come to England in search of a title, but she accepted his proposal because she loved him. She walked away from all she had ever known to make a new life with him, handing over her fortune and her heart.

As much as he needed her money to save his beloved Downton, he was plagued by guilt, and it weighed heavily on his conscious. He couldn't shake the feeling that he was robbing her of a better life and a greater purpose. Cora loved with heartbreaking intensity, and Robert thought himself underserving of her admiration. He cared deeply for her, but he knew it wasn't romantic love he felt. At least, he didn't think so, although he could hardly make sense of his own thoughts anymore. He had read countless works of prose and verse, the characters and the authors expressing feelings of love and longing, but his understanding of their emotions didn't align with the way he felt about his wife.

The two shared a great friendship, talking easily about their lives, together and apart, their mutual interests, and their hopes for the future. In fact, Robert often thought, if left to their own devices, they could talk for hours without noticing the passage of time. Intelligent, well read and terribly witty, his wife was a great conversationalist, captivating him with her insightful questions and frequently leaving him in stiches with her amusing (and sometimes, downright wicked) remarks. But their lighthearted banter failed to come as easily anymore, and this didn't escape Robert's attention.

They also shared great physical passion for one another. Robert knew of so many men and women who took lovers early in their unhappy marriages, but he couldn't fathom desiring anyone else as much as he did his wife. Her luscious curls spilling down her back, her pillowy lips parting in a sigh, her bright eyes darkening with lust – she filled his mind and his senses even when they were apart. Perhaps especially then. There were days when he was walking the estate that he surprised himself by arriving unscathed at his intended destination because he was so distracted by his incessant fantasies.

But their nights together, as wonderful as they were, only added to his guilt. Every evening, to fulfill his unrelenting physical desires and their duty to Downton, he laid claim to her body, taking pieces of her that she could never get back. She offered up her fortune, her body, and her heart, and he took and took and took.

"Robert!" Rosamund hissed, knocking him out of his reverie. "What on earth has you so preoccupied?"

"I'm sorry, sister dear. It's nothing in particular. My mind was just wandering," he replied softly, rubbing the nape of his neck and glancing quickly at Rosamund before returning his eyes to his wife.

She smiled knowingly. "Cora looks breathtaking tonight. And it's good to see her in such high spirits."

"Yes, it is. I've been rather concerned about her the past few days. Spending Christmas away from her family for the first time must have been trying. And, of course, the way Mama belittles her doesn't help."

"Days?" Rosamund queried, her brow furrowed. "Robert, she's been gloomy for weeks, hardly the effervescent girl you proposed to last year."

Looking down at the floor, his shoulders slumping, Robert sighed. "I know, Rosamund. I know. But what am I to do? I can't very well send her back to America." There was no anger in his tone, only defeat. It would be easy for him to get defensive, but there was no denying the truth in her words. Sighing again, Robert crossed his arms over his chest and turned his eyes up to Rosamund's face to find her shaking her head back and forth incredulously.

"Robert, don't pretend to be a child because it suits you. Cora is your wife. Take some responsibility for her happiness."

Robert gaped at her. "But I care a great deal about her happiness!"

Pleased by his sudden show of emotion, Rosamund did her level best to contain her smirk. "Then show her, brother."

"But how?" Robert asked eagerly, moving a pace closer to her.

Rosamund rolled her eyes but worked to amend her insolence by gently gripping Robert's hand. "Give her your attention. Papa has been keeping you so busy lately I expect you rarely see her away from the dinner table. You can start by joining her and finding out the source of that silly grin on her face."

Robert looked over at Cora and back at his sister, his own grin pulling at the corners of his mouth.

Chuckling softly, Rosamund squeezed his hand and tilted her head in Cora's direction. "Now, go!"

"You are wise beyond your years, Rosamund." Leaning in, Robert brushed a kiss across his sister's cheek and whispered his thanks in her ear, then turned quickly to make his way across the room.

"Hopeless..." Rosamund huffed. "Thank goodness he has me." Quite proud of her work, she motioned for the footman to bring her another glass of champagne.

* * *

><p>"Cora?" Robert questioned quietly as he took his place next to her. She radiated serenity, exuded a lightheartedness he hadn't felt around her in so long, that he hated to disturb her.<p>

"I'm sorry, Robert – I didn't notice you there," she answered with surprise, her cheeks flushing a flattering shade of pink. The warm light of the room cloaked her features in a heavenly glow, and Robert briefly wondered if he was looking at a work of art created by Vermeer himself.

"I was admiring the grounds," she explained as she took a step closer to him and motioned out the window. "They look so enchanting after a fresh snowfall, don't they? A veritable winter fairyland."

While Orion stood on guard above, Robert marveled at the crystalline fields below. Trees bedecked in ice swayed in the gentle breeze, their boughs sparkling like chandeliers, and moonbeams danced across the downy snow. The ground glittered, a blanket of diamonds over the frozen earth. Awestruck by the cold, isolating beauty of Downton's landscape, Robert's mouth dropped open, and his eyes grew wide with wonder.

"Lovely, isn't it?" Cora whispered.

"It's...remarkable," he replied softly. He had passed dozens of windows that night, but he had been so consumed by his thoughts he had failed to notice the splendor occupying the other side of the glass.

"It reminds me of winter in Central Park and the late night walks I used to take there with my father," Cora spoke, a hint of nostalgia in her voice. "We'd bundle up in our thick capes and gloves, and as we made our way along the icy paths, he'd tell me stories of fairies that lived on the falling snowflakes. Of course, my mother thought it foolish. And perhaps it was, but those memories are very dear to me."

Fingering the snowflake brooch affixed to her royal blue gown, Cora smiled to herself. "This pin was a gift from him, in fact. A reminder of the precious moments we shared on those cold winter nights, ambling through the park, just the two of us..."

As Cora trailed off happily, a comfortable silence fell over the couple, and together they studied the frigid landscape side-by-side – Cora likely reliving the memories of her youth and Robert mulling over his sister's advice, unsure of what to do or say next. He knew he was overthinking things. What had happened to the natural conversation that used to flow so easily between them?

Lost in thought, Robert was startled when Cora suddenly gripped his arm, her eyes beaming and full of excitement. "Robert, I know it's late, but might we go for a short stroll around the grounds tonight?"

Even if Robert hadn't thought of suggesting just that, he would have immediately agreed. Her joy at this simple prospect filled the air between them, and he breathed it in, allowing himself to feel the same. With an enthusiastic nod, he answered, "Of course, darling," and Cora's impossibly large smile grew even wider.

She motioned for a footman before leaning up on her toes and placing a light kiss on his cheek. "I'll meet you at the front door shortly."

"Yes, milady?" the footman inquired as he approached the pair.

"Joseph, could you please tell Carson and Evans to meet us in our rooms? Lord Downton and I are taking a short walk around the estate."

Obediently hiding his surprise from the young American mistress, he replied, "Of course, Lady Downton," and headed towards the library door to fulfill her request.

Cora followed him, a few steps behind, but stopped briefly and looked over her shoulder, flashing Robert an alluring smile. Her irresistible charm put motion in his feet, and he hurried after her.

Robert could feel his mother's eyes burning into his back as he exited the room, but to his own amazement, he found he didn't care. In that moment, he cared only about his wife's happiness. It was at least partly his responsibility she feel content at Downton, and perhaps indulging her wishes would help her rediscover the girl that enchanted him during the London season less than a year ago. Moreover, he would do anything to prologue the playful glint in her eyes and that contagious smile.

* * *

><p>As Robert and Cora stepped into the limpid black night, the crisp air stung their exposed cheeks and shocked their lungs. Puffy clouds of warm breath trailed behind them, and their boots crunched along the shoveled path, announcing their arrival to the wonderland laid out before their feet.<p>

Entranced by the ethereal beauty of his young wife, Robert snuck glances at her while he pointed out the constellations and regaled her with tales of Roman mythology. The way the moonlight caressed her creamy skin and brightened her blue eyes left him breathless. Her lovely smile from earlier remained firmly affixed to her face, and he found he couldn't resist stopping to tell her how pleased he was to see its return after many long weeks without it.

Turning to halt their progress, he reached up and affectionately cupped her cheek. Cora closed her eyes with a breathy sigh and leaned into his hand, while he took a moment to cherish her contented visage.

"A sight to gladden my heart," he whispered.

But much to his disappointment, her face fell at his statement, and she drew away from his hand, her mouth twisting in exasperation.

"Is it?" she asked curiously.

"Of course," he replied with conviction, his forehead creasing. Why would she doubt his sincerity? "Of course, it is, Cora. Your beautiful smile has been absent from this house for far too long."

Her eyes softened at his compliment, and she tilted her head to the side as the harsh wind circled around them.

"Robert," she began, "may I speak plainly with you?"

"Yes, you can always be frank with me, Cora," he answered, cupping her cheek once again. "In fact, it's one of the things I admire most about you – your candor, your openness."

She smiled sweetly in response and then pulled him towards a bench a few yards away. As they sat down on the frosty wood, Robert gripped her hands between both of his, hoping to keep her slender fingers warm – and to reassure her. He wanted her to be honest with him. What plagued her, this deep sadness, was an ominous dark cloud that followed her wherever she went, and he longed to see the sun again, to see her blazing with that passion he adored.

"I'd like to apologize for my behavior. Christmas was obviously challenging for me, being away from my family for the first time, but the reason I've been melancholy... Well, it has to do with something else entirely, and I feel I must explain myself."

She paused and looked down at her feet, hesitant to continue, so Robert squeezed her hand in encouragement. She needed to unburden herself, and doing so away from prying eyes and ears offered them both protection. Cora's armor was thick, but after so many repeated attacks, he feared it would crumble along with her resolve.

She swallowed thickly before chancing a glimpse at him, tears threatening to spill from her reddened eyes.

"When I confessed my love for you, Robert, I changed everything. I said those words aloud, and then I couldn't take them back," she choked. "But I foolishly hoped for a great love affair. I believed with time and persistence I could make you love me. I believed it wholeheartedly."

"Perhaps I'd read too many Jane Austen novels," she added with a sardonic laugh.

Retrieving a handkerchief from inside his coat, Robert tried to dry her eyes, to soothe her. He hated to see her cry, but her tears fell unguardedly now, rolling in weighty droplets over her smooth cheeks.

"I know that you care about me, Robert. We've formed a strong friendship for which I'm incredibly thankful. Although our marriage won't be the stuff of novels, a great friendship is a far better than what some men and women share with their spouses," she reasoned.

Robert flinched at her use of the word "friendship," and his chest tightened with the affirmation that his guilt was not unfounded. He had failed her. Cora had lost her faith in romance, settling for his companionship because she believed it was all she could ever have. A martyr for unrequited love, she was poised to sacrifice her own heart and conscious, forsaking everything for him, and it broke his heart.

Robert had been led to believe love in the aristocracy was elusive – and unnecessary for a successful marriage. When he chose Cora, he did so because not only could her fortune save Downton but, also, he felt differently about her than any other woman he had met over the Season. She was smart and interesting and attractive. He genuinely enjoyed her company and could see her by his side when he took his place as Earl of Grantham. But never had he considered love. Always ruled by duty, governed by that notorious English reserve, he had unknowingly conspired against himself and his own happiness.

Moments he shared with Cora over the past several months flashed through his mind in quick succession, and as he sat with her now, taking in her features under the starlight – sapphire eyes full of devotion, rosy cheeks stained with tears, and luscious lips begging for his kiss – Robert realized a lifetime with only her friendship would never satisfy him. She occupied all the corners of his mind, permeated his senses, and it still wasn't enough. He wanted her, all of her – body, heart, and soul.

_So this_, he thought, staring at his wife, _this...must be love_. _Love_, he repeated again and shook his head in amazement. Joy quickly bubbled up inside him, and he felt drunk with the idea of it all. It was glorious prospect – a lifetime of love with the woman he married.

"I'm learning to be content with the way things are," she rambled on, staring at the ground. "I'm finding solace in our friendship, and I wanted to reassure you I won't let you down. I know we have a role to play, and I never want to disappoint you."

"But that's not what I want," Robert interjected staunchly, his pulse quickening.

Crestfallen, Cora whispered, "I don't understand."

"I don't want your friendship," he answered, and Cora jerked her hands away in shock and humiliation before he had time to amend his statement. The hurt in her expression sobered him, gave him clarity, and he shifted closer to her on the bench. "At least, that's not all I want."

"Robert, what do you mean?" Cora's forehead creased in confusion.

He removed his gloves and reached up to grip her face, gazing into her eyes and running his thumbs back and forth along her cheekbones. The connection fortified him and calmed the quivering fire inside his stomach.

"What I'm trying to say, rather badly, is that your friendship will never be enough because I want so much more."

"Oh, my goodness," she gasped as she tried to steady herself, her trembling visible.

"I want everything, all of you," he said in a soft voice. "I love you, Cora."

The utterance of those three little words instantly illuminated his world and altered his focus. Love was goodness and truth more profound than the wisdom of ancient philosophers, more beautiful than the carefully crafted words of gifted poets.

It was all so clear to him now – loving her had been the answer all along.

Tilting forward, he kissed her forehead, savoring the feel of her skin pressed against his lips, and he repeated that treasured phrase, "I love you."

She leaned back, her eyes wide with feeling, and then lunged to embrace him, and they tumbled from the bench to the snow-covered ground, laughing like children.

"Robert Crawley, do you have any idea how happy you've just made me?" she asked, shaking her head in disbelief, her face alight with her smile.

The urge to kiss her overwhelmed him, and he crashed his lips against hers, his zealous tongue seeking entry. They kissed feverishly, rolling around on the ground, until they were forced to stop for air and covered in white.

Cora's chest heaved with the effects of their exertions, and Robert looked down at her, twirling an errant curl around his index finger. He wanted to memorize this vision of her, lying in the snow beneath him, framed by the shimmer of the ice and stars.

Cora's eyes welled up with tears again as she whispered hoarsely, "Robert, is this a dream?"

"No, my dear." He chuckled. "If this were a dream, it wouldn't be nearly this cold."

"Then, say it again," she demanded gleefully, staring at his lips.

"I love you, Cora," he announced as she closed her eyes in reverence.

Opening them languidly, her eyelashes fluttering against her cheeks, she smiled. "And I love you, my darling. So very, very much."

With her proclamation, Robert kissed her again, a hungry kiss full of hope and promise. Cora clutched at him with shaky fingers, but whether it was from emotion or the bitter temperatures, he couldn't tell.

Although it took great effort, he managed to break their kiss and stand, extending his hand to her. "Let's go inside, my dear. This winter fairyland has been full of glorious surprises, but you must be getting cold."

Accepting his proffered hand, Cora pulled herself up and leaned against him, gripping the labels of his thick jacket. "I don't think I'll ever be cold again."

* * *

><p><em>AN: Better late than never, right? ;) Special thanks to my lovely betas GranthamGal and Settees-under-siege for their thoughtful review of my entry and for their encouraging words (which helped me find the nerve to actually post this)! _


	2. Part II

Robert stood in front of his dressing room door, examining the grain of the wood, the richness of the stain, and the decorative hinges. He was stalling, and he knew it. He could hardly contain his nervous fidgeting. Why was he so hesitant to simply knock on the door? His stunning wife was waiting for him on the other side. He could picture her turning towards him as she sat on the settee in her soft pink dressing gown. She would flash him a beseeching smile, a hint of mischief in her eyes, and beckon him to join her. It was a delicious scenario – the kind he fantasized about as he walked the estate in the afternoons.

But tonight was different. Tonight he was going to make love to her – truly, make love to her – for the first time, and he wanted it to be perfect. And perfection was a heady goal. He wanted there to be no trace of awkwardness, no thought of duty. Tonight should be about showing Cora how much he loved her. She deserved that and so much more for the months he simply walked into her room, plundered her body, and left. Tonight was about apologies and forgiveness and letting go.

And that's what he knew he needed to do now – let go of his insecurities and join the woman he loved on other side of the door. The woman he_ loved_.

Straightening his back, Robert looked forward and exhaled slowly, then lifted his hand and rapped lightly on the door.

Cora's melodious voice called out to him like birdsong, "Come in, Robert."

Robert clutched the doorknob and closed his eyes, taking a deep breath, a final gulp of courage. He pushed open the heavy door, and the image that greeted him was much like he had envisioned it. Cora was perched on the settee close to the fireplace, a thick blanket over her legs. She beamed up at him as he entered, her smile wide, welcoming, and reassuring.

"Please, join me. I was just thawing out."

Robert grinned as he walked toward the settee and sat down next to her. "I thought you said you'd never be cold again."

Cora giggled and reached for his hand. "Well, I'm a romantic, Robert. It seemed like the right thing to say." She studied his long fingers carefully for a moment and ran her thumb over his knuckles before returning her gaze to him.

"I can't fault you for that," he replied with a chuckle, lifting her hand to kiss the inside of her wrist. "In fact," he continued, turning serious, "it's another one of the many things I adore about you, Cora. You're romantic, passionate. You love with your whole heart, and you let it guide you."

She sighed happily, her eyes glassy with unshed tears. "I must admit I began to question the worth of that particular trait. I started to wonder if I was just a stereotype – the impertinent American girl who followed her heart, forsaking all for love, only to have her hopes dashed. But tonight you proved I am anything but that. I let my heart guide me, and I got exactly what I desired – you."

Cora tightened her grip on his hands and stared deeply into his eyes. Love and hope reflected back at him, and Robert felt the rest of the world slip away, receding like the tide. The raging waters would return soon enough, but tonight, it was just the two of them, anchored by their newly discovered romance.

Robert pulled Cora into his lap and wrapped his arm around her waist, the blanket covering her legs falling to the floor. He gingerly gripped her chin and pressed his forehead to hers, breathing deeply, her rose-scented perfume filling his nose.

When he finally brought their lips together in a tentative kiss, Cora melted against him with an airy sigh and threw her arms around his neck, immediately deepening the kiss. Her supple tongue pressed insistently against his bottom lip, and he crumbled under her gentle siege, parting his lips in surrender. Drinking from her like he would a goblet, he luxuriated in each pass of her tongue and the taste of her mouth.

Their lips in constant motion, Cora untied the belt of his dressing gown and deftly began unbuttoning his night shirt with one hand, eventually slipping her hand inside to run it along his bare chest. Eager to be rid of the wretched robe and shirt, Robert broke their kiss, his breathing uneven and erratic, and shrugged out of the offending garments with a triumphant huff, which was soon replaced by a soft whine when Cora slid from his lap and stood before him.

Speechless, Robert watched as his wife slowly, deliberately, untied the bows of her own dressing gown, parting the ruffled panels to reveal that she wore nothing underneath. Letting the gown drop seductively to the carpet, Cora turned her attention to her braid, pulling the ribbon from her hair and tossing her head back, her lustrous dark locks tumbling about her shoulders.

Robert's breath caught in his throat. She was a goddess – his Venus – a sacred gift from the heavens above. The golden firelight danced over her pearly skin, highlighting her shapely legs, the curve of her hips, and her small but voluptuous breasts. She stood confidently with her arms at her sides, her hands open and inviting. He pictured himself running his fingers through her hair, kissing along the arch of her neck and the delicate jut of her collarbone, curling his body into hers – learning her, studying her, memorizing every dip and contour. She deserved to be loved and worshiped, and tonight, he sought forgiveness for all the nights he had failed her.

Cora extended her hand to him, motioning for him to stand, but he pulled her back into his lap instead and situated her between his legs. Moving her hair to the side, he kissed behind her earlobe and started placing feather-light kisses down her neck and along her shoulder. She tilted her head to the side to grant him better access, mewling in contentment at the sensation of his lips moving across her skin. Her breathy sighs spurring him on, Robert's hands roamed over her torso, one hand trailing up her waist and ribcage to knead her breast and lightly tease her hardened nipple, and the other slipping lower. Running his fingertips along the sensitive skin on inside of her thigh, he encouraged her to lift her leg up and to the side to settle on top of his before he parted her silky folds and began stroking her gently – caressing her with intention, exploring with purpose.

Cora was enticingly hot and wet under his fingers, but Robert maintained his focus. His own arousal strained painfully against the small of her back, but he wanted nothing more than to prolong her pleasure, to prove the depth of his love for her.

"Oh, Robert..." she sighed, almost inaudibly, as she stared to roll her hips against his hand. Reaching up behind them, Cora tangled her fingers in hair at the nape of his neck and pulled his forehead to hers. Robert felt her hot, shuddering breath against his lips, and the way she writhed against him, her hips arching and falling to meet his every motion, left him in shambles, careening on the edge of coherent thought.

Cora's eyes suddenly flew open, and she started to quiver, reaching down to clench Robert's forearm, stilling his motions. She stared at him, her countenance uncertain, almost fearful. This was all so new. "Robert, please, I..."

Robert shushed her tenderly and kissed the corner of her mouth. "Let go, my love. Let go," he murmured as he stared in her eyes. Relaxing her grip on his arm, she sunk more heavily against him, her head falling back on his shoulder.

Suckling on her neck, Robert began to caress her again, gratified when his ears were met with her muffled sounds of ecstasy. "Yes, darling, yes. Let go. Let go," he chanted softly until she shattered in his arms, the force of her climax causing her to cry out and tremble violently. He tightened his grip around her waist, causing each of wave of bliss that passed through her body to vibrate along his own.

Unable to resist the urge any longer, he crashed his lips to hers in a bruising kiss, letting his actions show how much he enjoyed giving her pleasure, enjoyed loving her the way she deserved. Cora smiled against his mouth and broke away to turn in his lap.

Snuggling against his chest, she ran her fingers over his lips and gazed up at him, her eyes dark as midnight and beads of perspiration forming along her brow. She was so heart-wrenchingly beautiful Robert felt numb, paralyzed. How could it be that this heavenly creature he held in his arms was his wife? Perhaps it _was_ only a glorious dream.

"Robert?" Cora whispered.

"Hmm?"

"Take me to bed," she pleaded with a string of kisses along his jaw.

Lifting her easily, he cradled her small body in his arms and made his way across the room. He sat her down on the top of the plush duvet, then quickly removed his pajama bottoms. When he looked to her face after kicking the clothing across the floor, he found her studying him earnestly, a thoughtful smile gracing her lips. Her intense regard was a bit unnerving, but his anxiety evaporated immediately when her warm voice met his ears.

"Robert, you are so beautiful sometimes I feel as if I can hardly breathe."

He looked down, touched but slightly amused. "_Beautiful_?"

"Yes," she sighed as he took a step towards her. "Like Bernini's _David _is beautiful."

"Cora," he replied with a smirk, "I hardly think I can be compared – "

"No," she hissed, her smile growing larger. Her gaze floated happily over his face, and she sighed as she stood to meet him, curving every soft part of her body into his. Reaching up, she drew her index finger along his forehead, her commentary mapping her intended path. "You are beautiful – your strong nose, dimpled chin, broad chest..."

When she grazed her finger down his abdomen between them and unexpectedly wrapped her hand around his arousal, Robert moaned and closed his eyes tightly, reeling at her closeness – the feel of her fingers gliding methodically over his length, the sound of her ragged breaths pummeling his ears, the scent of her fragrant hair assaulting his nose. It was all too much.

"Cora," he faltered as his hands drifted down her spine, "I need you. Please."

"Then have me," she panted, looking up into his eyes. "Take all of me. I'm yours. I've always been yours."

Her words were erotic, but so full of love and devotion Robert hardly knew how to respond. Cora trusted him fully with her heart, with her body. She had every reason to doubt him – his behavior over the past few months was ample proof – but she remained unmarred. Her love was so innocent and pure and unyielding he thought his chest might explode.

Gripping her bottom, Robert lifted his wife onto the bed and laid her among the pillows. He cradled her in his arms as he settled between her legs, searching her eyes for consent. She cupped his cheek and nodded, but Robert could sense she needed something more. So he kissed her forehead, her eyes, the tip of her nose, and finally her mouth before whispering the venerated phrase he knew she longed to hear him say:

"I love you, Cora."

"And I love you, Robert," she murmured, stroking his cheek before placing a long, lingering kiss against his lips.

When he pushed into her, love and lust burned so hotly in Robert's veins he could hardly maintain his composure. He exhaled slowly as her velvety walls enveloped him, and Cora whimpered. Afraid he had caused her pain, Robert held himself back, his body quaking with the effort. But when she hooked her legs around his waist and arched her back, rolling her hips against him in answer to his unspoken question, he knew she was simply as overcome as him.

He moved slowly above her, reveling in the way her body welcomed him, taking each measured thrust with ease and care. Her delighted gasps fell upon his ears, and her breasts rubbed against his chest. Dizzy with need, Robert sought her gaze to anchor himself. He wanted to savor this night and prolong every moment, but he was perilously close to losing control.

"Look at me, my love," he whispered throatily.

When Cora lowered her chin and opened her hazy eyes, he kissed her fiercely, and she reached up to stroke his hair, her fingers smoothing his wild locks with the continual motion. The loving care she showed him at such a desperate moment made him want to weep, and he realized he would never deserve the way she loved him.

A delicious tension built and coiled around within him, and he plunged into her furiously as they continued to kiss, their tongues moving in tandem with the rhythm of their hips. Wanting her to fall with him, he wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her lower body more tightly against his. The friction between them intensified until Cora went rigid and cried out his name, sinking her fingernails into his neck and shoulders.

"Oh, Robert, my darling," she moaned as she started to shudder beneath him.

The salacious sound of her voice, the way her body convulsed around him, sent him hurling over the edge only seconds later, and he nuzzled his head against her heated flesh, kissing her neck and murmuring endearments into her skin as he came down from his high.

Robert could hear her heart beating, thundering inside her chest. His blood moved through his veins, racing to his limbs, as his own frenzied heart mimicked hers. They were vital and alive, and so was the love that passed between. It was real and palpable. And he could never doubt it again.

Robert gently eased them on their sides with a soft grunt, and Cora laid her hand on his chest, playing with the soft curls there. She gazed up at him, her eyes gleaming like the sun.

"Let's always remember this moment, Robert," she implored, her voice gravelly. "We can never forget the precious love we feel tonight. There will come a time when we're no longer young and beautiful, when the world will change, when life will challenge us. But this –" She grabbed his left hand in hers and held it over her pounding heart, tears welling up in her eyes. "This love will carry us through the rest of our days. Please...please don't forget."

Robert wrapped his arms around her, pulling her naked body flush against him, and kissed away her tears.

"I'll never forget, my love," he spoke softly. "Never."


End file.
